


you there, hiraeth

by crunchrapsupreme



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Frottage, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Shower Sex, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4889305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunchrapsupreme/pseuds/crunchrapsupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean says, “Come visit me.”</p><p>Eren freezes, his fingers going still as he glances up, locking eyes with Jean’s through the screen. His features are fuzzy through the webcam, but his expression is clear and open, eyes blinking wildly at him, and <i>fuck</i>, Jean misses him so bad.</p><p>“Um,” Eren says, scratching the back of his neck before smiling. “Okay.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you there, hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> _hiraeth (n) - a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was_

Moving halfway across the country to finish up his marketing major probably wasn’t the most appealing of decisions Jean’s ever made, but the school had offered him an insane scholarship that he couldn’t pass up, and he knew in the long run he’d regret it if he never took the opportunity.

It’s not all bad, to be honest. He's close enough that a train can reach him from his home town, but that doesn’t mean that him and his friends actually utilize that, unfortunately. Jean’s so fucking busy all the time now, in his last year of college, and most of his friends back home are in the same state. Also, money is tight as all hell, so even a simple forty dollar train ticket would be pushing the budget.

Honestly though, the actual hardest part about leaving home - save for his family - would have to have been leaving Eren..

Eren has even _less_ time to video chat and talk on the phone than anyone else because he’s working full time as a receptionist at some yoga place while also going to night school to get his associates. When they do chat, it’s usually for short periods of time because Eren looks like he’s about to pass out nine times out of ten. Still, even just seeing his fuzzy image on his phone through facetime, his hair messy and his smile fond and eager like it always is, it’s enough.

Marco’s been up to visit him a few times in the past year, as well as Connie and even Armin once, but Eren’s the only one who hasn’t had the time nor money to make a visit. Jean can’t really visit home, because he’s become the RA of his dorm, and though it’s fucking awesome and he gets his own room all to himself, he can’t ever really _leave_ the place, save for holidays.

So, he hasn’t seen Eren since Easter, and it’s now almost November, and he’s surviving, but _barely_.

Him and Eren had gotten together their freshman year of community college, after they’d grown out of their stubborn high school brains and discovered that they actually had a lot in common. Armin had been trying to hook them up for _years_ , all through high school, and who knew it’d only take one night of running into each other at some shitty 80’s themed club a few months after high school graduation for them to finally click into place?

Contrary to popular belief, they had the most disgusting, cliche honeymoon phase, and most of their friends regretted ever trying to get them together because it was honestly legendary, how gross they had been for each other. Most would’ve thought they’d be that off hand, stoic couple that bickers sometimes in public and acts more like bros than a couple, which, well. That was sort of true, but Jean also found himself feeding Eren across the table, and licking the remains of food from the corner of his mouth instead of wiping it with a napkin. And Eren would find himself playing with Jean’s fingers every chance he got, staring down at the lean, thin hands with a sort of melancholy smile.

It was an aggressive progression, and even when Jean announced he was moving to a new state for his last year of college, that didn’t deter Eren at all.

Though, for Jean, going three straight years with the nonstop presence of Eren beside him, with the feel of his unruly brown hair beneath his fingers, the smell of him on his clothes and in his bed, having all of that suddenly snatched away from him wasn’t the easiest transition. Not being able to text Eren late at night when he needed to just _be_ with him, not being able to stay up late together curled on the futon in Jean’s basement and play video games until they both fell asleep against each other. It was fucking tough, to say the least.

Now all he gets is a few video calls a week if he’s lucky, when they’re both not busy, which is, admittedly, rare.

At the moment, Jean’s curled up in his bed, laptop in front of him. Eren’s playing some game on his computer, not even paying attention to Jean, and Jean watches as he sticks his tongue out in concentration, hunched over his keyboard, a few strands of hair having escaped the small little ponytail it’s in, wisping around his face gently. The only light seems to be from the lamp on his desk, and it casts Eren in an almost ethereal glow, and Jean’s chest _aches_.

Eren grumbles under his breath, “If I die in this game one more time, I _swear to_ \- ”

Jean says, “Come visit me.”

Eren freezes, his fingers going still as he glances up, locking eyes with Jean’s through the screen. His features are fuzzy through the webcam, but his expression is clear and open, eyes blinking wildly at him, and _fuck_ , Jean misses him so bad.

“Um,” Eren says, scratching the back of his neck before smiling. “Okay.”

Jean blinks, sees the grin on Eren’s face, and says, “I mean - uh. Will your job let you have off for the weekend?”

Eren shrugs. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”

“I’ll pay for your ticket,” Jean breathes, suddenly giddy, and Eren laughs, shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I’ve got some cash still saved up from my birthday, it’s fine. What about your RA duties, or whatever?”

“I’ll have to do my nightly rounds and shit, um. And I think this weekend I have an event? But it’s only for a few hours.”

“Cool,” Eren says, and he’s grinning for real this time, wide and bright and earnest and Jean swallows thickly.

“Fuck, I miss you.”

Eren’s smile falters, grows softer all of a sudden, and he tucks a few strands of hair behind his ear, resting his chin in the palm of his hands as he cocks his head. “Yeah, me too. Like you wouldn’t _believe_.”

Jean scrubs a hand over his face, all of this mushy, couple-y shit having gotten him all disoriented and achey inside, and Eren’s laughing at him now, finally going back to his game, and Jean curls back up on the bed, falls asleep to the sound of Eren’s breathing and the quick clicks of the keys through the screen.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

_Eren (2:04 pm): yo my boss said as long as i could find someone to cover my shift i could take off fri thru mon, and this chick i work with owes me for taking her shifts 4th of july weekend so im p sure i can come!_

Jean grins down at his phone, tapping his fingers idly on the side of his coffee cup where he’s seated in the University cafe, going over some paperwork for his grad school plans. He’s still not sure where he wants to go, but at the moment, the most important thing in his life is _Eren. Eren is coming to see him this weekend, holy **shit**_ **.**

_Jean (2:06pm): i have a class on monday at noon, and another at 4, so you could either chill in my dorm and leave later that night after i get back from class or u could just leave that morning before i go_

_Eren (2:07pm): or u could play hooky and spend more time w ur needy bf xoxo_

Jean rolls his eyes, sends a few quick unamused emojis before shoving his phone into his pocket and gathering his things to head to his next class. The thought of Eren coming in just a mere four days is enough to distract him thoroughly throughout his entire lecture, and his phone keeps buzzing in his jean pocket. He knows it’s Eren bombarding him with emojis and probably selfies of his pouting face because Jean’s ignoring him, and Jean’s fingers itch with the need to save them to his phone like the sap he is.

Soon, he’ll be able to see that pouting face in person.

\--

The days go by incredibly slowly, and Eren’s working and going to school every day until Friday when his train leaves, so they don’t have much time at all to really sit back and talk on the phone or to have a video call. But Jean eases his mind with the thought that soon Eren will be _here_ , and he’ll get to talk to him and touch him and hold him all he goddamn _wants_. After waiting so long, Jean’s almost shaky with thoughts of finally getting to see Eren again (the measly three days he managed to travel back home during Easter wasn’t nearly enough to satiate him, especially since Eren worked full shifts at work two out of the three days Jean was in town).

But now, finally,  the air is biting and cold as he makes his way to to the train station. It’s within walking distance, even though it’s a decent twenty minutes on foot, but he’s not really in the financial state to afford a taxi at the moment, and though the bus would’ve been fine, he’s so antsy he feels like he has to be constantly moving. The bitter air is a nice, calming shock to his system, and he tugs his beanie further over his ears as he rounds the corner to the station.

He’s a bit early, and he seats himself on a bench inside. It’s not much warmer inside, to be quite honest, but the temperature keeps him alert, eyes scanning up every few moments even though Eren’s train hasn’t even _arrived_ yet, god.

He jumps when his phone vibrates in his pocket, and when he pulls it out, he bites his lip on a grin.

_Eren (12:35pm): oh my god it’s so fucking hot on this train. pulling up to the station now tho!_

_Eren (12:35pm): this is gross but. god i cant wait to see ur dumbass face_

Jean’s chest goes tight again, the way it always seems to do when Eren does absolutely anything at all, really, and he clutches his phone tightly, standing up and rocking back on his heels as Eren’s train’s arrival is announced. A few other people stand up also, some looking bored, some looking almost as eager as Jean, but Jean at least hopes his is masked enough because he doesn’t want to actually look like the starry eyed lover he knows he probably is projecting anyways.

When he finally does spot Eren, it’s a lot less climactic than he thought. Eren grins, waves, and barrels himself at Jean just as Jean expected him to. Eren’s bag is tossed to the ground next to their feet, and Jean balances himself against Eren’s jolt of energy, wrapping both arms around the smaller boy as Eren squeezes his middle, burying his face in the front of Jean’s coat.

When Eren pulls back, just enough so he can tilt his head up and grin at Jean, Jean takes in his wide, sparkling eyes, and his signature messy hair, tied back lazily with a few hair pins keeping his fringe out of his eyes. One of the pins is sparkly and blue, and Jean reaches up, runs his fingers over it gently. Eren’s grin gets wider, if possible, and then he’s cupping Jeans face in his warm hands before rising up on his tiptoes and slotting their lips together.

“Missed your ugly mug,” Eren mumbles against his mouth, and Jean sighs, nudging his nose against Eren’s cheek.

“Ditto.”

“You need to come back home more often.”

Jean scoffs. “ _You_ need to come _here_ more often.”

Eren makes a noncommittal noise before kissing the corner of Jean’s mouth again, then finally pulling back to grab his bag and sling it back over his shoulder. Jean already misses his warmth, the solidness of his body lined with his own, and he immediately reaches down and weaves his gloved fingers with Eren’s bare ones.

“You up for a walk, or do you want me to call a cab?”

Eren shrugs. “I’m cool with either. Is your dorm far?”

“Like, twenty minutes by foot. It’s close.”

Eren grins up at him, squeezing his hand and leaning into his side slightly. “Let’s walk.”

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

Eren’s’ never been to Chicago before, so he’s like a puppy on his first walk, stopping every few minutes to point something out, or gape at a skyscraper, or something else entirely, and it’s equally infuriating as it is adorable. He’s tugging Jean along like he already knows the city by heart, and Jean keeps having to steer him back on the trek to the dorms so they can drop his stuff off and warm up in the heated building. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it’s cold enough that their breath crystallizes before them, and Eren’s cheeks and nose are quickly turning pink from the wind.

The dumb idiot didn’t even bring a scarf, and Jean grumbles as he unwinds his own with one hand, movements jerky and quick, and when he stops them on the sidewalk, turning Eren towards him, Eren doesn’t even have a moment to ask what’s wrong before Jean’s winding the thick, burgundy colored scarf around his boyfriend’s neck, making sure to cover his mouth and nose.

Eren blinks up at him, but then his eyes are squinting, and Jean knows he’s grinning behind the scarf. Jean just grunts and tugs his beanie over his ears, fumbling to reach down and grab Eren’s hand again before tugging them along.

When they get to the building, Jean lets them him, and once he signs Eren in for the weekend, they climb into the elevator. Eren doesn’t hesitate in gripping Jean by the arm, reaching up with his other hand to unwind the scarf so he can talk without the fabric muffling him.

“So, what kinda cool things are you gonna show me? Are you gonna be my personal tour guide?”

Jean frowns, watching at the numbers climb higher on the elevator until they get to the fourth floor. “No, dumbass. It’s too cold to do touristy stuff.”

Eren pouts, and Jean rubs the back of his neck with the hand that’s not being held captive by Eren. “Like, I kinda just. Wanna be with you, and hang out or whatever. Watch movies. Like we used to back home, you know?”

Jean’s not looking to see what sort of teasing, smug expression has taken over Eren’s face, but he hears the tell-tale snort of the shorter boy, and he only glances at him when the ding of the elevator signals them.

“You’ve become such a sap since you left,” Eren laughs, but his grin is genuine, and Jean flushes a little as he rolls his eyes, yanking his hand out of Eren’s and stalking out of the elevator, ignoring the call behind him of, “ _Hey! Distance makes the heart grow fonder, you know!”_

Jean slows down just enough so that Eren can catch up with him, and when they make it to his room, his fingers fumble with the keys because Eren’s pressing himself up against Jean’s back, mouthing at the nape of his neck eagerly.

“Jesus, you can’t even wait until we’re inside?” Jean grumbles, and Eren chuckles and nuzzles his nose against the soft hairs curling against his nape, biting gently at the skin, and Jean sucks in a sharp breath, finally managing to unlock the door, and as soon as it’s shut behind them, Jean’s spinning Eren and pressing him against the closed door, struggling to tug off the borrowed scarf and toss it to the side. When his fingers tug at Eren’s jacket, pulling it off his shoulders roughly, Eren laughs again and tilts his chin up, pressing a fleeting kiss to Jean’s jaw, rough with stubble.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who couldn’t wait.”

“At least I could keep my hands to myself until we got in,” Jean murmurs, arching down to bury his nose in Eren’s neck, inhaling his scent before licking the skin wetly. Eren’s knees shake, because his neck has always been a sweet spot of his, and _god,_ Jean’s missed this. Missed the taste of Eren against his lips, missed his little hitched gasps and soft moans as Jean wedges a knee in between his legs and _rubs_.

“ _Ah -_ Jean, _fuck_ ,” Eren pants out, tossing his head back and hitting the door with a soft thump. “Don’t you - _hah -_ d-don’t you wanna take a fella out to dinner first?”

Jean laughs and pulls back from Eren’s neck in order to cup his face in one hand, tilting him up so he can kiss him properly. Eren melts against him, winding his arms around Jean’s neck, and Jean licks into him, feels the sharp canines beneath his tongue as he walks them back toward the bed unsteadily. Since Jean’s an RA, he doesn’t have a roommate, but he still has a room with two beds, so earlier in the year he’d pushed them together and created a much nicer sized one than the tiny ass dorm beds by themselves.

Jean pushes Eren onto the mattress before crawling on after him, shoving the hem of his sweater up until Eren gets the hint and shucks it entirely, leaving him in only his jeans and socks. The length of his body is enticing, and he leans up on his elbows to watch Jean undo the button on his pants, thumbing the flap open just enough to brush his fingers over his cock, covered only by a thin layer of cotton.

Eren’s body twitches, and he lifts his hips to shove the offending clothing off, and when he’s finished, lying back completely naked and staring up at Jean with that stupid _smile_ , Jean makes a quiet noise and straddles his hips, curving his back down to press his face into Eren’s chest. He kisses his sternum, licks along the stray freckles dotting the tanned skin, and when his lips close around a nipple, Eren keens and arches his back, fisting the sheets underneath him.

“Missed you,” Jean murmurs against him, repeating his earlier words, and his throat is suddenly tight and choked off. Eren gasps out a little moan, reaches down to bury both of his hands in Jean’s hair, knocking off his beanie in the act.

“I’m right here,” Eren breathes out, tugging at Jean’s hair until the taller of the two shuffles up, their faces level with each other. “I’m right here,” Eren repeats, and Jean nods, kissing him again, and when Eren rolls them over so Jean’s beneath him, Jean can’t help but stare up at him idly for a few moments, hands running gently up the boy’s thighs where they’re bracketing his hips.

“You’re entirely overdressed, still,” Eren points out before sloppily helping Jean shed his own clothes. Once they’re both bare, Eren reaches over into the side drawer, fumbling around until his hand bumps into a few scattered foil packets and a small tube, and when he grins widely, Jean rolls his eyes.

“Bedside drawer? How scandalous. What if someone finds it?” Eren says.

“I live alone,” Jean points out, “Also, who cares if someone found it? At least they’d know I have a healthy sex life.”

“But you _don’t_ have a healthy sex life,” Eren snickers. “You’re boyfriend lives in a completely different state.”

Jean glares, and Eren just laughs again and thumbs open the lube, but right before he can get it on his fingers, Jean stops him, murmurs quietly,

“Let me.”

Eren blinks, and Jean carefully takes the bottle of lube from him, squeezing some onto his own fingers before sitting up so Eren’s perched in his lap. The head of his cock bumps Jean’s stomach, and when Jean reaches around him to press against his hole, Eren lets his forehead press against Jean’s. He breathes out slowly, evenly, when Jean gets his finger inside to the knuckle, he crooks it at the angle his hand seems to hand memorized, and Eren’s body shakes when Jean’s finger rubs his prostate relentlessly.

“Mm, _more_ ,” Eren manages, nipping the tip of Jean’s nose playfully before burying his face in Jean’s neck.

Jean complies, working in two, and then three fingers, stretching Eren slowly, teasingly, relishing in the way Eren’s body trembles and shakes beneath his hands. He’s letting out these little tiny moans every time Jean thrusts in, and once he’s squeezed in a third finger, scissoring him open, Eren grinds into his hand. Eren’s still buried in his neck, but from the sting against his skin, he’s now busy happily marking up Jean’s throat. He knows he’ll have a plethora of hickies come morning, but he’s destined to wear them fucking proudly because his boyfriend is here and he’s so fucking _happy_.

Jean yelps when Eren shoves his chest so he falls back on the bed, Eren still perched on his hips, and he’s quick to line himself up with Jean’s cock, lowering himself without any warning and oh _god_ , Jean hasn’t been laid inside him in _months_ , and Eren’s so fucking tight, so good, that Jean can’t help the little thrust his hips give. Eren gasps when Jean pushes all the way in, and he braces his hands on Jean’s chest, fingers splayed over his ribs as he starts rolling his hips slowly. He’s teasing, and Jean _knows_ he’s teasing, but he’s been deprived of this boy for so long he’s not about to deal with this right now, so he grips Eren’s hips, plants his feet flat on the bed, and thrusts up _hard_.

Eren digs his nails into Jean’s chest and hunches in on himself with a loud cry, his body shuddering as Jean’s starts up an erratic rhythm.

“Here, just,” Jean starts, reaching to grab Eren’s hands. He interlocks their fingers tightly, with his palms facing up, and that gives Eren the leverage he needs to bounce up and down on Jean’s cock, matching the time of Jean’s upwards thrusts. And it’s so _hot_ , and warm, and Eren clenches around Jean’s cock with every brush against his prostate, and honestly, Jean’s seeing stars.

And then there’s Eren, head tilted forward, hair in his eyes and lips parted as he pants and fucks himself on Jean’s length. His face is pink with exertion, and there’s a little bit of drool on the corner of his mouth that he’s too distracted to notice and swipe away with his tongue. It’s honestly the hottest - and cutest - thing Jean’s ever seen, possibly.

Jean’s chest tightens, his heart fluttering, and he whispers, “I miss you, I’m _always_ missing you.”

 Eren grunts and tightens his hold on Jean’s fingers. “Stop - _saying_ that shit. I’m right _here_ ,” Eren repeats the words from before, hunching down to press his forehead to Jean’s. “You can’t miss me when I’m right _here_.”

“Fuck off, I’ll miss you whenever I damn well please,” Jean grumbles back, choking on a moan when Eren tightens around him.

“This is a stupid argument,” Eren replies breathlessly. “Stop being mopey about me when I’m _literally here in front of you_.”

Jean sits up suddenly, releases Eren’s hands in order to wrap his arms around Eren’s waist and hold him close, fucking him as best as he can, and Eren tightens his knees around Jean’s hips, bounces up and down and winds his arms so tight around Jean’s shoulders he gasps on his breath.

“Sorry,” Jean murmurs, “Can’t help it.”

And Eren wants to reply, but his cock is rubbing against Jean’s stomach with every rock of his hips, and Jean’s got a hand in his hair, scratching at his scalp while he whispers stupid praises into Eren’s ear that make him flush and cling harder.

“One day,” Jean starts, panting into Eren’s ear. “I wanna lay you down, all spread out. Wanna touch you, memorize your body for _hours_.”

And Eren’s always, _always_ known Jean was a sweet talker. He discovered that the first time they had sex and Jean had called him ‘pretty’ and Eren had blushed down to his neck before promptly punching him in the jaw. Now, though, the endearments and praises send jolts of heat through his body, and he’s becoming weirdly dependent on hearing Jean _say it_ , hearing Jean say how good he feels, how well he’s doing, how _tight you are, god, you’re so fuckin’ sweet, all moanin’ and desperate for me, such a good boy, you’re so fucking good to me, Eren, fuck._

Eren’s eyes well up a little bit at the words as Jean showers him with his perfectly timed praise, murmurs against his neck and against the shell of his ear, and fuck, Eren’s always been an easy crier but getting teary eyed over Jean clutching him and calling him _sweetheart_ is a little more pathetic than usual for him. He squeezes his eyes shut, presses his cheek to Jean’s shoulder as he ruts against him until he’s crying out around a desperate sob and coming all over their chests.

“Fuck you,” Eren mumbles out, keeping his head tucked in Jean’s shoulder and gasping as Jean continues thrusting into him, oversensitized and pliant. “You made me _cry_ , you asshole.”

“Bad cry or good cry?” Jean manages, thrusting up a few more times before trembling and tightening his hold around Eren as he releases into him with a quiet, “ _F-fuck,_ ah _\- Eren!”_

“What do you think, you fuck?” Eren grumbles, lifting his head just enough to aggressively wipe his eyes with his arm. He hardly pays attention when Jean pulls out, shifting Eren off his lap and getting up to grab some tissues. Eren curls up on the mattress, naked and sated and much too warm to put clothes back on, and when Jean returns, Eren sprawls out like a starfish and eyes Jean expectantly.

Jean rolls his eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

But he climbs on the bed and begins cleaning Eren off. When he glides over a particularly ticklish spot near Eren’s naval, causing Eren to twitch and snort, Jean hastily wipes the rest clean before instigating the most aggressive tickle-war they’ve ever had, which Eren loses after promptly three and a half minutes.

“Fuck _off_ , okay, I give up! Lemmo _go!_ ” Eren giggles after Jean’s successfully spooned up behind him, one arm wrapped around his bare waist and the other hand mercilessly tickling his stomach. It’s softer than usual, and Jean thinks about all the hours Eren’s putting in with school and work. He probably doesn’t have much time to go to the gym anymore, and Jean grins into the nape of his neck as he digs his fingers into the soft give of his stomach.

After he feels like Eren’s been sufficiently worn out, Jean lets his fingers go still, and Eren immediately turns around in his arms until their noses are touching. He’s still a little breathless, a lingering smile painting his features, and his eyes are blurry and unfocused this close up. Jean closes his own eyes instead, managing to scoop Eren up in his arms and maneuver them under the covers. He tugs Eren until the smaller boy is half on top of him, knees tucked into his chest, a tiny ball of warmth as Jean wraps both arms around his body. It’s Eren’s favorite sleeping position because he gets really restless when he dreams, and this way, he’s trapped in the safety of Jean’s arms so he can’t successfully roll around anywhere.

“I wanna go to Navy Pier tomorrow,” Eren mumbles, rubbing his nose against Jean’s collarbone to get his attention.

“Navy Pier is always way too fuckin’ busy. Also it’s _winter_ , Eren. We’ll freeze our asses off.”

Eren grumbles, “It’s my first time in Chicago, I _have_ to go to Navy Pier.”

And Jean wants to argue, really, he does, but he’d be a hypocrite because the first thing he did when he rode up to check out the campus before enrolling was take a trip to Navy Pier as his touristy rite of passage. Then again, it was also springtime when he went so he didn’t have to worry about getting god damned hypothermia.

“We can go, but only for a little bit, okay?” Jean concedes eventually, sighing and tipping his head back into the pillows.

“I wanna ride the ferris wheel.”

“ _Eren_ ,” Jean groans, closing his eyes and reaching up to tug at the boy’s ear gently. “If we’re already gonna freeze our asses off on the ground, how cold do you think we’ll be one hundred and fifty goddamned feet in the _air_?”

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

They end up going to Navy Pier, and Eren coddles Jean into buying them tickets for the ferris wheel. Only because Eren looks so _excited_ , and in awe, his eyes lighting up as he bounces on the balls of his feet while they move up in the line to get on.

Jean’s already unbearably cold, and he leans into Eren’s body heat as the boy clutches his arm with both of his hands, dragging him forward and shoving them both into the gondola when it’s finally their turn. Eren eagly scoots to the corner so he can look out the side, and Jean is quick to scoot up against him, chasing the boy’s body heat.

Jean’s breath crystallizes in front of him when he blows against his gloved hands, but it doesn’t help at all, and finally he grumbles as he crosses his arms, shoving his hands into his armpits to try and warm himself up with, clearly, no luck. The cold doesn’t seem to be affecting Eren, in all honesty, and Jean’s is thoroughly amazed and jealous. He’s pressing his hands to the bars of the gondola, peering out as they rise higher and higher on the wheel, and finally, after a few miserable, cold minutes, Jean huffs out a breath and piles Eren into his lap, shoving his face into the boy’s neck to try and get _some_ sort of secondhand warmth.

Eren makes a surprised noise, squirming a bit to get comfortable, before wrapping an arm around Jean’s shoulders and kissing his temple, his other hand sliding down to weave his own gloved fingers with Jean’s.

“I know you’re a pissbaby who can’t handle the winter season,” Eren points out easily, nuzzling Jean’s cheek with his own cold nose, “but thanks for suffering it so I could ride on a giant wheel.”

Jean just grunts and shakes his hand free of Eren’s so he can shove both his hands inside the boy’s coat, and Eren just laughs and leans into him, watching the ground grow closer to them as they descend.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

“Jean, _Jean_ , hey, do you have any hot cocoa?”

“No, but there’s coffee in the hall kitchen.”

Eren scrunches up his face, shedding the last of his winter clothes until he’s just in his sweater, jeans and socks. It’s that stupid ass sweater that Jean wants to burn every time he sees it, the one that says _‘BANANA_ ’ in big, block letters right below a picture of a pineapple. He said Armin got it for him at a garage sale or something, and Eren’s in love with the thing and the only reason why Jean tolerates that piece of clothing in his presence is because the collar is stretched so big that it droops and if Jean’s at the right angle he can see Eren’s gorgeously defined collarbones. So. He guesses the sweater isn’t _all_ that bad.

“How are we gonna have a movie marathon without _hot chocolate_?” Eren complains, flopping next to Jean and curling up until his face is pressed into the taller boy’s thigh. Jean sighs but reaches his hand down to bury his fingers into unruly brown hair while he boots up his laptop, smiling just a bit when Eren makes a small happy noise, unconsciously.

Netflix gets pulled up, ever so slowly, but Jean grumbles as he attempts to click through a few genre’s, not getting anything to load because his dorm’s wifi is fucking shit around this time in the evening because that’s when literally every student and their mother are either using the wifi to do their homework, or using the wifi to procrastinate doing their homework.

“The internet’s being shitty, ‘cause it’s wifi rush hour right now,” Jean grumbles, angrily clicking the same link a few times with no luck.

Eren just hums quietly and rubs his cheek against Jean’s thigh, and Jean feels his body go warm because Eren gets in these moods sometimes, when he’s exhausted or tired but not sleepy enough to nap, where he gets insanely sweet and just wants to be coddled. Eren’s surprisingly needy, much to contrary belief because it’s such a shocking contrast to Eren’s wild and prideful personality.

The excitement and bustling about at the Pier this morning probably wore him out, and Jean gently closes his laptop, setting it to the floor before staring down at Eren’s face, eyes closed and lips parted, but not asleep. He’s in the weird in between state he gets when he exerts all of his pent up energy in one day and gets limp, but not worn out enough to actually _sleep_ , and Jean traces the line of his jaw.

“Can I eat you out?” he asks, blunt and to the point, and Eren snorts softly reaching up to pat blindly at Jean’s face.

“You’re such an ass whore,” he says quietly, voice low. “Mm. Do what you like, you perv.”

Jean knows Eren trusts him to take good care of him, and Jean fucking loves receiving the amount of ability Eren piles into his hands, the easy choice to just give Jean all of him whenever he asks. It causes Jean to get warm, his palms going slightly clammy as he prods Eren until the shorter boy is sprawled on his stomach, head resting on his folded up arms as Jean makes his way between his spread legs.

He manages to get Eren to lift his hips enough to fumble open his jeans, and then he’s tugging them down just enough, stopping mid thigh because Jean’s a little bit self indulgent and likes the bit of restriction of movement that keeping on Eren’s skinny jeans provides. Eren lets out a little sigh when Jean kisses his lower back, parting his cheeks. He showered this morning before they left, and he still smells a little bit like Jean’s soap that he borrowed. It’s weirdly arousing, knowing that he used Jean’s body wash without hesitation. Jean was still passed out when Eren showered, and Jean wonders if Eren thought about him when he covered himself in the soap Jean uses everyday, if Eren touched himself to the scent of Jean all over his body, warm water cascading over his shoulders.

Jean stifles a small groan at the thought, instead opting to bury his nose between Eren’s cheeks and flick his tongue out gently, torturously soft and light against the sensitive hole, and Eren chokes on a small whine, so unrestrained and breathy. Jean continues his teasing, and really, he could tease Eren for _hours_ , and eventually Eren starts sleepily rutting his hips against the mattress, pressing his ass back into Jean’s face, willful noises of pleasure falling from his lips like liquid gold.

He’s too sleepy to be feisty and reluctant against begging, so soon Jean’s got Eren whispering under his breath fiercely, “Jean, _please,_ mm - ah, _fuck_.”

Normally Eren puts up more of a fight, likes making Jean work for his compliance, but he’s so cooperative at the moment that Jean’s feeling exceptionally merciful, and he quickly stiffens his tongue, working into Eren’s heat and proceeding to eat Eren out like it’s his last goddamned meal and he’s on death row.

“ _Oh, g-god,_ ” Eren slurs, voice still thick with exhaustion, forehead buried in his arms, toes curling and back arching in a soft curve. His sweater has bunched up at his ribs from his writhing, and Jean reaches up one hand to trail feather-light fingers down the knobs of Eren’s spine, loving the way Eren shivers under the sensitive touch. “Shit, please, _more_ ,” he breathes, and Jean complies, parting his cheeks wider and licking wetly before sucking _hard_ , Eren clenching against his lips, and his hips stutter, slowing to a sensual grind that has Jean groaning and reaching down to palm at his own arousal through his pants.

“Jean, _t-touch me_ ,” Eren whines, and Jean rolls his eyes at the way Eren lifts his hips a bit, reaching back blindly and waiting for Jean to link their fingers so he has something sturdy and warm to hold onto. He squeezes his fingers almost to the point of painful when Jean licks his palm before reaching around and under Eren’s body in order to thumb the slit of his cock, gripping just shy of too much as he continues licking into Eren obscenely.

He wonders if Eren’s drooling. Eren’s always been strangely unaware of his goddamned body fluids when he gets into it enough; soft, gentle kisses getting heated and too spitty (which Jean hates to admit is kind of hot, the way it slicks down Eren’s chin and the way Eren wipes his face with the back of his hand before diving back in for more), the way Eren just lets his lips part, not bothering to worry about dribbles of saliva slipping out the corner as he pants heavily, mind too sated and occupied to worry about such trivial things.

Especially now, as Jean strokes him to completion, and Eren lets out this sweet little moan, body trembling violently as he releases all over the sheets below him, trails of it dripping in between the spaces of Jean’s fingers, warm and slippery. After Eren releases the tension in his body, Jean pulls his hand away and the boy immediately goes boneless, collapsing onto the bed into his own mess and giving Jean’s fingers one last squeeze before letting go.

“Gross, c’mon,” Jean prods, tugging Eren’s pants completely off. “Turn over, let’s clean you up before you pass out, yeah?”

“Uhg,” Eren groans, but he manages to flip over, flapping his hand at the bedside table until he finds the box of tissues there. He hastily wipes himself off while Jean cleans off his own hand, and when Jean’s climbing back onto the bed, Eren’s wiggling out of his sweater and jeans, tossing them to the floor before saying,

“Want me to suck you off or somethin’?”

Jean snorts a bit and slinks further into the bed. “Nah, I’m fine,” he says, despite his obvious rock hard boner tenting his pants. “You go to sleep, okay? I’ll just jerk off later while you’re passed out.”

“You can come on my face, if you want,” Eren murmurs, and he’s so fuckin’ _tired_ that he’s lost his filter, and Jean laughs, shaking his head.

“No thanks. I’d probably wake you up,” he says. “Sleep now, you can suck me off later.”

Eren just grunts, curling into Jean’s side, and Jean just strokes his hair until his breathing has evened out in a deep slumber.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

Jean must’ve dozed off too, because when he wakes up Eren’s buried under the covers between his legs, mouthing him through his boxers, his jeans unbuttoned and parted. Eren proceeds to give him the most lazy, mind blowing blow job of his young life, and afterwards, they finally get the internet to cooperate and they marathon a bunch of weird ass documentaries until they pass out near five in the morning.

Sunday passes in a hazy blur. They wake up around two in the afternoon and trek to the nearest IHOP, ruffled and unshowered and still sleepy. The food wakes Eren up, but Jean’s not going to be fully functional until he gets a least another cup of coffee in him. Eren plays footsie with him obnoxiously under the table, and when they’re done, they go back to Jean’s dorm and shower.

Jean fucks Eren against the tile wall, water drenching their skin, liquid heat making the press of their bodies just that much hotter. Eren whines into the palm of his hand, muffling himself as Jean braces one hand on the wall next to Eren’s head, the other wrapping around his waist and hiking him closer.

“Touch yourself,” Jean says lowly, his breath tickling the shell of Eren’s ear, and Eren happily complies, sliding his hand down to fist himself in time with Jean’s thrusts, and he comes to the taste of Jean’s name on his tongue, spilling from his lips as Jean’s teeth sink into the nape of his neck.

Afterwards, all clean smelling and relaxed, Eren in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else, Jean in a tank top and sweats, Jean sprawls on the bed while Eren ruffles his hair dry with a towel, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom.

“Man, I need a haircut,” Eren comments, sticking his tongue out as he fingers the locks of hair curling around his ears, at the nape of his neck. He brings his wrist up to his mouth and tugs his hair band off with his teeth, lazily tying his hair up before shoving his damp bangs back away from his face. A few wisps of hair escape and curl around his cheeks, and Jean smiles, just a small quirk of his lips.

“C’mere,” he says, and Eren grins, crawling forward and onto the bed, into Jean’s open arms.

“What time does your train leave tomorrow morning?” Jean asks, moving them around a bit until Eren’s spooned up against him, back to his chest.

“I don’t remember. Nine something?”

Jean hums and drums his fingers against Eren’s bare stomach, and there’s music playing from his laptop on the floor. Some acoustic sounding hipster shit, and it’s soft and melancholy and the sun is beginning to set, wisps of sunlight just barely peeking through the window now. It kind of feels surreal, and Jean’s always been a sap for this kind of shit, but he’s always had a hard time voicing it. He leans up on his elbow, and Eren turns so he’s lying flat on his back, staring up at Jean next to him, and when Jean leans down to kiss him, he eagerly arches up into the touch.

Their breaths are slow and even, controlled and relaxed, and Eren hums happily because he _loves_ kissing. Jean learned that within the literal first week they were dating and Eren would religiously drag him off to make out as often as he could. It was hardly sexual, too, which is strange for Jean because his past partners really only shoved their tongue in his mouth if they were trying to get some. Eren just genuinely enjoys the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of Jean’s tongue against his teeth. Eren just loves being wrapped up and smothered, and Jean is more than happy doing that to him.

Jean blinks when he suddenly finds himself on his back, Eren straddling his hips. He grins down at Jean, and then he’s cupping Jean’s face in both of his hands and curling down to press their lips together once more, tilting his head at the perfect angle. Jean breathes out through his nose sharply, and he can’t help it when he slides his hands down Eren’s back, down further until he’s cupping his ass, and when he yanks forward, aggressively dragging Eren _closer_ , Eren whimpers and rolls his hips down.

“You know, we haven’t done this since we first got together,” Eren says, grinning against Jean’s lips.

“Hm? Done what?” Jean murmurs. “Made out like high schoolers while grinding against each other like dogs in heat?”

“Precisely.”

“Mm,” Jean hums, “Do you _want_ me to fuck you? It is your last night here, you know.”

Eren sighs sweetly against his mouth, nudging his nose against Jean’s softly. “No… no, I just want you to hold me, yeah? This is good. I like this.” He bites his lip. “I mean, unless you really wanna fuck, we could totally do that.”

Jean chuckles, squeezing Eren’s ass just to hear him squeak. “Yeah, no, this is good.”

The playlist on the laptop has stopped, and Jean forgot to put it on repeat so now the only sounds in the room are the soft, wet noises of their mouths, and the breathy little sighs Eren lets out when Jean presses up into him, rubbing their clothed arousals together, and Jean _would_ shed their pants, slick them both up in his hand, but he doesn’t want to let Eren _go_ , so he just holds on tighter and bends his leg up for more leverage, thrusting into Eren’s rhythm.

Eventually Eren worms his arms beneath Jean’s shoulders, winding his arms tightly around him and shoving his face into Jean’s neck, and it might be the emotions in the back of their minds, the thoughts of goodbyes and separation that has Eren so clingy tonight, but Jean’s clinging just as hard.

It’s incredibly windy outside, and Jean supposes they don’t call it the windy city for nothing. It whistles outside the window, and Jean jerks up against Eren when he grinds down particularly hard, moaning quietly into Eren’s ear.

“Jean, _Jean_ ,” Eren breathes, pulling his face back to look at Jean in the eyes, his own eyes glazed over and desperate looking. They look a little wet around the edges, a little too wide. “I - I don’t... ”

“Hey, shh,” Jean says, but his own voice is trembling just enough to be noticeable. He brings a hand up to cup Eren’s face, and when Eren turns his head to kiss his palm, Jean blinks, feels a sudden wetness drip down his cheeks, and Eren is quick to dart down and kiss the salty trails away.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Eren whines, biting down on Jean’s bottom lip as he rolls his hips down, grinding them together desperately until he’s shuddering and coming in his shorts, the curve of his back practically illegal as Jean feels down his spine, shallow scratches causing Eren to cry out. Jean’s quick to follow, digging his fingers hard into Eren’s ass because no matter how hard he tries to deny, Jean Kirschstein is an ass man through and through.

After they’ve both gotten their breath back, Eren rolls off of Jean and shimmies out of his basketball shorts and boxers, using the fabric to wipe of the insides of his thighs and his softening dick before tossing it somewhere on the floor. Jean grumbles at him for that, and Eren just sticks his tongue out, squirming under the covers and making grabby hands at Jean until the taller boy finally gets out of his own sweatpants and joins him in the bed.

“Don’t forget to set an alarm,” Jean says, even though he’s already got one set on his phone because Eren always sleeps through his own.

“Got it,” Eren mumbles, flapping a hand towards his phone on the desk a few feet away. He curls back into the circle of Jean’s arms, and Jean knows he’s going to fall asleep any minute now. He always gets tired after an orgasm, and it’s late enough that he’s going to end up sleeping through the night even though Jean wishes they could stay up and spend more time being conscious together.

Once Eren’s breath has slowed, evening out and puffing warm and gentle against Jean’s collar bone, Jean can’t help it when he winds his arms tighter, shoving his face into Eren’s hair and squeezing his eyes shut. His body feels tight, wound up and buzzing, and though Eren’s so warm and heavy in his arms, he feels cold. It’s strange, like when you microwave a hot pocket but it only heats up the outside, and when you go to take a bite the filling is still chilled to the bone.

He doesn’t know how long he stays awake, but eventually he must’ve fallen asleep because he dreams of reflections in mirrors staring blankly back at him for hours and melting icebergs flooding his shoes and Eren’s eyes peering at him from the horizon like the goddamned sun.

 

 

\------------------------------

 

 

They sleep through the alarm _three times_ , and the ground is cold beneath the soles of their shoes as they jog to the train station, Eren’s bag slung over his shoulder as Jean tugs him along by the hand. Eren’s laughing because Jean keeps stumbling because his damn shoe is untied but he’s too scared they’ll miss the train to stop and fix it. And, well, Eren missing the train and having to stay another night wouldn’t be _too_ bad, but Eren has work in the morning, and Jean knows he can’t miss another day.

“I think… I left my boxers on your…. floor,” Eren pants out as they round the corner to the station, and when Jean shoots a glare over his shoulder, Eren giggles breathlessly, stumbling to catch up as Jean pulls them inside. The clock says they have ten minutes to spare, barely, and the train has already almost fully boarded when they make it to the gate, the line just beginning to taper off, and Jean knows Eren has to get on, has to leave him again, and he doesn’t realize he’s breathing so heavily until he feels a pair of cold hands cupping his cheeks.

“Hey, I’ll be back soon, okay?” Eren says, and Jean just makes this quiet little noise, all of the breath leaving him as he gathers Eren up in his arms and hugs him tight around the waist. And Jean knows he’s being a little overdramatic, but _soon_ isn’t going to be soon enough, he knows that. At least his eyes are dry, this time, the only feeling in his body a strange, slowly furled ball of tension gradually unwinding as Eren peppers his face with kisses.

“I love you,” Eren whispers against his cheek, his jaw, his nose.

“Love you too, dumbass,” Jean manages weakly, fingers gripping Eren’s hips tightly.

Eren’s grinning when Jean finally pulls away, and Jean can’t help but smile back, a little less brightly than intended but still genuine, and Eren runs his thumb across Jean’s bottom lip, leaning up on his tiptoes once more to kiss him goodbye.

“I have to get on the train now,” he murmurs as he pulls back, and Jean sighs, brushing Eren’s hair back from his forehead, leaning down and kissing the warm skin there, and then stepping away, his arms falling to his sides as Eren gives him one last blinding smile, waving over his shoulder as he disappears through the gate. Until next time.

His phone buzzes as he’s walking back home, the weather crisper than it was before, a little more clear and light, and when he sees a message from Eren, he bites his lip on a smile.

_Eren (9:12 am): next time i wanna try and blow u on the ferris wheel. do u think we could get away w/ it?_

It’s the least romantic thing he’s ever heard, probably, but it makes him laugh, doubling over on the busy sidewalk of Chicago as he catches his breath, clutching his phone tightly in his hands, and people are looking at him like he’s crazy, which, well, maybe he _is_ , who fucking _knows_.

But really, he thinks he’d be okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically just a self indulgent fic as an excuse for me to write overly fluffy emotional mushy erejean sex /shrug emoji
> 
> [here's](http://crunchrapsupreme.tumblr.com) my tumblr if u wanna talk erejean trash w/ me


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